


An Hour

by cowboykylux



Series: If The Creek Don't Rise [42]
Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: Clyde Logan Needs a Hug, Duck Tape Bar & Grill (Logan Lucky), F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Pet Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:07:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25900327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: All Clyde wanted was to lock up the bar and collapse in his bed. He was fixin’ to put himself in a sour mood, his favorite patron nowhere in sight, and hadn’t been all evening -- that was, until you burst in through the front door.
Relationships: Clyde Logan/Reader, Clyde Logan/You
Series: If The Creek Don't Rise [42]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/927228
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	An Hour

It was nearin’ closing time for Duck Tape, and Clyde was looking forward to it. He’d been on his feet for a solid six hours straight, and now that the rush of his late-night clients was over, he was starting to feel the effects. All he wanted was to lock up and collapse in his bed. He was fixin’ to put himself in a sour mood, his favorite patron nowhere in sight, and hadn’t been all evening.

That was, until you burst in through the front door, with such energy that the three remaining patrons and Clyde all looked up with curiosity.

“Sorry.” You apologized to them, embarrassed.

The old grizzled men nursing their beers paid you no mind after that, and you made your way to the bar counter where Clyde was trying his very best not to blush.

“I was beginnin’ to think ya weren’t comin’.” He said quietly, already working on making your favorite drink.

“I’m sorry, work made me stay late.” You said miserably, “I tried to get here as fast as I could.”

And that was true, you had sped like never before, the countdown on the clock making you so nervous you even ran through a yellow light or two. That made Clyde blush even more, a shy smile gracing his lips as he slid the drink over to you.

“It woulda been okay, ya know.” He said in that same even tone, lifting his gaze to meet yours. He tried not to be blinded by the affection in your eyes, but oh he was failing at that real bad.

“No it wouldn’t’ve.” You shook your head with a shy smile of your own.

You had been coming in to Duck Tape every single night for the past seven weeks – not that Clyde was countin’ or anything. You came in for one drink, but you usually stayed for hours, relaxing and talking with him like it was the easiest thing in the world.

He had developed the worst crush of his life over the course of them seven weeks, and it was gettin’ to the point where he was gonna have to do something about it. He was convinced you didn’t feel the same, that the curse would catch up to him once more and he’d ruin the one real friendship he had built outside of his family. 

“Have one yourself, on me.” You said, tapping your finger on the cold glass of the drink, “If you’d like of course.”

Clyde nodded gratefully, it was like you had read his mind.

“I reckon I would.” Clyde said, pouring himself the same beverage from the tap. “Thank you (Y/N).”

The two of you clinked the glasses together before taking a long sip, and you chuckled at how eager he was to down his beer.

“Been a rough day?” You asked when Clyde went in for another one.

“Hmm, better now that you’re here.” He admitted.

The two of you looked at one another, unsure of what to do. If it were up to you, you’d reach across the bar and pull him into a kiss, wrap your arms around his neck and tangle a hand in his hair. But he surely had no interest in you, you were just a paying customer is all – right?

“It’s mighty quiet in here, I’ll get us a song?” You slid off the barstool, getting your feelings all hurt from the thought. “Wanna hear something special?” You asked him.

He could tell something was wrong by the slight tone in your voice, but he didn’t know what, or how to fix it.

“Anything you pick’ll be special, darlin’.” He shook his head.

 _Darlin’ –_ did he call anyone else that? Or was that something just for you? 

You wished you could ask, without making things awkward. This friendship with Clyde was your most precious thing, if you screwed it up by making him uncomfortable or angry, it felt like it’d ruin your whole life.

You flipped through the faded jukebox records and punched in the number for one you hadn’t heard in a long time, forgetting the name but remembering the melody. The music sounded softly, and once it was good and goin, you returned to your seat, your drink, your bartender.

“This one’s a bit of a sad song, don’t ya think?” Clyde asked, wiping down the counter. His heart ached for you, wanting to hold you tight. He needed to distract himself from just reaching for you, so the counter it was.

“It’s a sad song kinda night.” You shrugged, sipping your beer.

“Now why’s that, angel?” Clyde, and there he went again with the names.

“You’ll be closin’ up in an hour and then I’ll have to go home.” You said, resting your head on one of your hands.

“Well, we got an hour.” Clyde said, and you smiled.

The two of you spent the hour talking and talking, catching up on everything. The three other patrons of the bar all said their goodbyes, walking home down the street where they lived. It was just the two of you and the jukebox, laughing about stupid jokes and quietly exchanging theories and stories, making eyes at each other the whole time.

The more you spoke and laughed with Clyde, the less sad you felt. It was enough for you to just be around him, whether he felt the same about you or not. It was enough to be in his company, to sit in the bar and blush at his sweet accent when he called you little petnames.

You finished your beer pretty early on and had called it quits, but Clyde was a couple deep, and he was starting to panic. He had planned on telling you today, had planned on getting it all off his chest, but now the time was coming and he had to actually do it.

His stomach grumbled loudly, and you laughed at the sound.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t close the kitchen so early.” Clyde chuckled, feelin’ only a little embarrassed.

“What are ya hungry for?” You asked, looking at your watch. It was only nearin’ one in the morning, you could probably call to have pizza delivered or run out for greasy fast food.

Clyde looked at you long and hard then, figuring now was as good a time as any.

“You.” He said, making your heart beat so hard you swore he could hear it.

You had to have heard wrong – he couldn’t have possibly said he wanted _you?_

“You’re drunk.” You laughed, but he shook his head, making you genuinely smile.

“Oh yeah? Well you’re beautiful.” He said, nerves wracking through his body, making him go all soft spoken. “Don’t take a drunk man to know it, neither.”

After a beat of silence, you determined that _no_ this wasn’t a dream, and _no_ you weren’t hallucinating. You looked into his eyes, really looked at him, and saw how nervous he was. The poor man was practically shaking, his mouth set in a line that you knew was him preparing for rejection. Hope swelled in your chest, and you chewed your lip, your cheeks bright red.

“You really think so?” You whispered, the biggest grin on your face.

“I do.” He replied right away, his confidence slowly building. You hadn’t slapped him, or left, or told him you just wanted to be friends yet, which was more than he was expectin, and it made his own heart thud wildly in his chest. “I think a lot of things about ya.”

“Why don’t you come on the other side of this here bar and tell me some of ‘em?” You asked with wide eyes and a smile, grateful for the privacy of an empty bar when he actually _did._

“I’ll tell ya every day, if you’d let me.” He whispered as he took your hand in between his own. You didn’t even flinch at the cold metal of his prosthetic, and it made him emotional in a way he couldn’t really say. “I’d make you my girl, take ya home and tell ya a different one every night.”

The words filled you with joy, so much so that you felt your cheeks grow wet from little tears that spilled.

“Oh Clyde, I’ve been waitin’ a long time to hear you say that.” You said, feeling silly for crying, until you realized his eyes were shining too.

“Well, whaddaya say?” He asked, still after all this, nervous.

You stood up on your tip toes to kiss him, square on the mouth. He immediately wrapped you up in his arms, kissing you lazily, happily. You felt giddy, like it was the first time you had ever kissed a man, the first time you had ever fallen in love. Clyde kissed you and kissed you, his mustache and goatee tickling your cheeks and your lip, making you smile and giggle against him. He couldn’t help but smile too, the two of you too happy to kiss each other properly.

“I say it’s closing time.” You said, when the two of you broke away for air.

Clyde never locked up faster in his whole life, never more eager to go home than he was now that he was going home with you.


End file.
